Even the babies. Even the moms.

Last night, I attended the first session of an evening class I’m taking at the University. It’s called “Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction.” In short, the curriculum consists of “how to effectively meditate.” To be clear, I’m the least likely candidate to be interested in or successful at this type of venture. I don’t “get” meditation, I think yoga is nothing more than sweaty stretching, and my eye roll at anything associated with the word “spirituality” may be involuntary at this point. But this is exactly why I decided to enroll: I’m stretching my boundaries, challenging myself, and maybe trying to assuage my hyperactive brain. So I’m leaving this class scratching my head about this 45-minute body scan exercise I’m supposed to do every day (45 minutes during which I'm supposed to ONLY think about various parts of my anatomy, in turn) when I see a text message from Main Figurehead that says, “You’d be diggin’ Delhi 2 Dublin.” I knew there was an event at The Cedar, but I hadn’t considered stopping by, less because I had another obligation than because Delhi 2 Dublin sounded like some boring, DMG Celtic band. But there’s nothing I hate more than missing good stuff, and since I trust Main Figurehead’s judgment, I decided to stop for a song or two. 

Ten minutes later, I’m in The Cedar’s lobby running into an out-of-breath Mama E Dub who is tearing out of the hall saying something like, “man, I gotta get home” in that I-was-supposed-to-be-home-hours-ago way. The Cedar’s hall is a sweaty, jumpy mess. So here I am after a three hour session of listening to people read poetry, trying to clear my mind, and being quiet, peaceful, and still in a dimly lit meditation room, to the following in ten minutes (this footage is from the show last night). Check out the twirling moves of the sitar player on the left.

People are bouncing up and down, dancing furiously. Even babies. Yep, babies. Babies totally freak me out, but I couldn’t help but love this one baby who was getting into it. Mom was holding him (her?) and that baby was madly clapping his/her hands above his/her head and very serious about it. Not really laughing, certainly not upset, but almost concentrating as if “yep, I am really feeling this right now.” It sort of reminded me of when I saw a baby playing on an iPhone at the Pizza Luce block party. The crowd was an interesting mix: Young people, old people, people who looked like they know how to get down, and others who looked like they might hurt themselves, but everyone was moving. The music was part Bollywood, part fiddle, part funk. I guess you call this world-genre bending? But never mind the audience. The band was one of the most engaging I’ve seen: They played like it was their last show ever. The lead singer clearly knew how to move (and how to get the audience moving), the fiddle player headbanged to her ferocious fiddling strokes, and the smiley dhol player looked like he was having the time of his life. You can see him giggling here, in front of the jump jumping crowd:

I found Main Figurehead in the audience, who gave me the “I told ya” look. He leaned to me and said, “I saw these guys at South by Southwest. When I spotted the topless Asian guy in a kilt playing a sitar, I thought ‘I have to book these guys.'" It certainly doesn’t hurt that all of the band members are strikingly attractive, and I’m not just being nice. There’s the sexy, head-banging fiddle player in the cute skirt and leggings, the tall drink of water mixing the DJ console and wearing plastic sunglasses, the stunning lead singer whose subtle dance moves increased my temp another few degrees, and said sitar player who admittedly did not look bad with his shirt off.  I mean, musicians or model troupe? Sunglasses guy ventured into the crowd and climbed back on stage with two very shy, unassuming Cedar volunteers in tow. They were visibly apprehensive, but he sort of tugged on their shirts, as if to say “um, you don’t really have a choice right now but to JUMP. Come on, hands in the air.” They did.

And it only got better. My favorite was when he said, “Is this how Minneapolis always is? You guys are crazy!” And then, during their encore, “Everyone down on the ground. Get low. Everyone. Even the babies. Even the moms” and, “On the count of four, I think you know what’s gonna happen. Get as crazy as you can.” What? I think I know what’s gonna happen? I’m definitely working this into my repertoire: “Hey, boss/mom/store clerk, on the count of four, I think you know what’s gonna happen... we’re gonna get as crazy as we can.”

For their first time in this market, there were a substantial number of audience members: We had about 175 people in the crowd, but it felt like there were 400. When are D2D coming back? Again, please!